As most of my friends know, I have a tattoo on my lower back. I got it when I was 20, before the term “tramp stamp” was coined. It’s a Woodland Violet. I picked it for a few reasons. One, it stands for my sorority. Secondly, it reminds me of my mom–she always had African Violets. And it’s pretty and girly and I just liked it.

They say that tattoos are addictive and once you get one, you’ll get more. Well, I have no clue if that’s true or not, but I’ve always wanted a second. I wanted a lion for the longest time. However, I could never find the right one. They always looked angry or mean or cartoonish (is that even a word). I couldn’t find one that looked like it was simply strong.

Then, as we started adding our children, I wanted a tattoo that would represent them.

We have had two foster children who have come and gone from our home. And both of them have had a huge impact on me. And, I think, we have had a similar impact on them. One little guy came to us not speaking at all. He had food issues and behavioral issues. Each day that he was here was a struggle for us. When he left, however, he was speaking in 3-4 word phrases. He wasn’t eating out of the trash anymore. He had come a long way. And I was his mom for the short time that he was here.

Our last foster kiddo was much the same. While there weren’t the huge issues at the surface, there were trust issues right below the surface. There was a sadness that was there in the beginning that had all but vanished at the end.

How could I think of my children without counting those two in the flock?

Anyhow, as I contemplated, someone suggested birds to represent my children. And I thought it so appropriate. All of my kids are only here in the nest for a time. We are growing them all to be able to leave as adults. And they will all take a part of my heart with them–just as our other kids already have.